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Counseling
Log Title: Counseling Characters: Mrs. Michelle Hadley, Buster Witwicky, Sparkplug Witwicky, Susan Witwicky, Spike Witwicky Location: Portland, OR Date: Sep 4 and 5, 1980 Summary: Sparkplug and Susan discuss what to do about Buster's continuing silence. TP: Flashbacks Category:1980 Category:Flashbacks Category:Logs As logged by Buster - Thursday, October 18, 2012, 9:11 PM September 4, 1980 - 3 days after the infamous Jeremiah incident. Busy family stuff as usual. Susan had an early substitute teacher gig she went to, so dinner's consisting of one of those types of meals that moms throw together when time is short and 4 people need to be fed. Call it goulash. Velveta shells and cheese, cheese, hamburger, and a thrown-together salad. Spike is sitting down across from his father. Susan sits down as well - and against her better wishes, has allowed Sparkplug to exercise some family enforcement - basically by asking Buster how his day went. If he doesn't answer - pull the 'I asked a question' card. Buster sits silently, large blue eyes wide, small mouth shut. He clutches a Luke Skywalker action figure in one pale fist. Spike takes another forkload of the high carb/high calorie/high fat dish. He then says cautiously, "Can I just ask ONE Star Wars question... I promise, it'll be the only one of the night." Buster stares at his food, silently. Susan Witwicky breathes out her nose and nods. "OK...just ONE - g'head." Spike takes a bite and a gulp of water. "So... Han Solo... is he dead?" Sparkplug shovels vast forkfuls of food into his mouth, watching his silent son carefully as the other jabbers on about Star Wars. ;) Susan Witwicky smiles. Part of the fun in serials like this is knowing how the story turns out. But when you have 2 relatively sensitive kids, it probably pays to be the spoiler. Judy shakes her head. "No, remember, C-3PO said ... he was still alive. He was just frozen." Spike nods. "So," Sparkplug interrupts ponderously, his attention focused on Buster. "How was YOUR day today, Buster?" Buster's eyes widen even further as he glances up at his father. And that pretty much does it for the conversation. Buster's silence has cast an almost funeral pall over the table. Before Sparkplug finally breaks the silence. Susan Witwicky looks at her son and folds her hands, leaning toward her son - hoping that sparks an iota of encouragement. Spike takes a few stabs at the iceberg lettuce and ranch dressing tossed salad (blue collar family staple). Susan Witwicky shakes her head for a brief second, feeling like some sort of out of body experience had controlled her for a fraction of a second. Buster looks somewhat fearfully between his parents, and reaches into his bowl, pulling some food out with his left hand and shoving it silently into his mouth. Sparkplug says, "Son.... I asked you a question. I expect an answer." Susan Witwicky clears her throat and says cautiously. "Uh...Buster... your dad asked you a question..." Spike doesn't move his head, but his eyes shift from the united parental front. Buster looks wide-eyed from one parent to the other, silently pushing more food into his mouth without really chewing. Susan Witwicky's eyes widen with concern. "Honey, at the table, we use utensils." Sparkplug sighs, giving his wife a 'now what?' look. Spike's eyes slowly pans to his dad. True to his word, Sparkplug hasn't laid a finger on either of them since that one spanking Spike received. Buster carefully picks up a fork in his left hand, still clutching Luke Skywalker in the other. Susan Witwicky looks at Sparkplug and gives the 'nod' - her go-ahead to go forth with punishment. Buster stabs his salad with the fork, pulling up a large sheet of iceburg lettuce dripping with ranch dressing. Spike keeps an eye on his dad. Though he doesn't expect physical punishment, dad's temper alone can be enough to scare the beejusus out of Spike and Buster. Sparkplug's tone is surprisingly gentle and quiet. "Son," he says, "If you aren't going to participate in discussion as a member of this family, I'm afaid you're going to have to go to your room without supper." Spike looks over at Buster to see what he's going to do. Buster stares blankly at his dad a moment, and then nods silently, carefully placing down the forkful of lettuce on his plate, and the Luke Skywalker doll on the table to his right. He pushes his chair back with a loud scape, and hops off of it, giving a look to each of his family members before obediently heading upstairs. Sparkplug sighs again. "Well, that didn't work as I'd hoped," he grumbles to his wife, looking at Spike while he does so. A few moments of silence pass. Spike looks to his mom, then looks his dad directly in the eyes, giving his dad a sort of 'I didn't do anything wrong, but I fell like I'm going to be punished next.' The feeling is so prevalent, it causes Spike to occasionally look his dad in the eye for a few moments. Sparkplug gives his son a distracted smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Susan Witwicky breathes out and says "Well... when you have a rule, we expect you to follow it." Spike's feared look turns into a small, relieved grin at his dad. Sparkplug looks back at his wife and nods. "You may be right about... needing help, though." His voice echoes with exhausted defeat. Susan Witwicky clears her throat. "Uh...heyah sweetheart, dad and I will clear the table. Why don't you work on your homework?" Spike nods. He looks at Sparkplug, "Dad, tomorrow, maybe can you show me how to use a drill?" Susan Witwicky flinches slightly, imagining a trip to the ER. Sparkplug's brightens at that. "Sure, son!" THIS is a request he can handle. Spike gets up and heads out. "Thanks..." He nods at his mother, "Thanks for dinner." Sparkplug frowns as soon as Spike leaves the table. "I don't suppose we can just starve him into talkin', huh?" he growls, obviously referring to Buster. Susan Witwicky smiles at her more...vocal? son. She then looks at Sparkplug with a baffled expression. "OK...I'm genuinely freaked out now. It's like he would rather prefer any punishment instead of speaking." She massages her temple. "I'm just...genuinely...freaked. I've read my share of psych books, but I've NEVER come across this!" Spike goes to read a book. As of 1980, his family is unable to afford an Atari 2600, so he goes for the next best thing... Judy Blume. Buster is in his room already, reading "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." Sparkplug says, "Well, I'm stumped. You really think a shrink will help?" Susan Witwicky shrugs. "It's not like we have a choice. Buster's teacher scheduled an appointment for tomorrow before I could even say anything." She breathes out and sighs. She then gives a mischievous grin at her husband and puts her arms around his shoulders. "By the way... the way you handled that. See? Didn't raise your voice ONCE. You were cool, even-headed. And Buster obeyed." She grins and kisses Sparkplug on the cheek. "YOU... handled that...awesomely." Sparkplug chuckles. "Well, I'd prefer results to accolates, but thanks." He shakes his head at the whole situation. Susan Witwicky sighs and begins to clean up. She looks at Sparkplug. "Did you know that Ron and Judy are going to see Pink Floyd LIVE in concert?! They're only doing a couple of shows for 'The Wall'!" Sparkplug looks at his wife. "Wow. We should totally join them and get high watching Pink Floyd. That will certainly fix all of our problems!" He doesn't often engage in sarcasm, but when he does, it doesn't suit him. Susan Witwicky breathes out her nose and mutters "Smartass..." Sparkplug grins rakishly. Susan Witwicky shakes her head. "It... there's a lot more than just DRUGS to that album. It's about... alienation... a sense of displacement from..." she looks at Sparkplug's rakish grin - and grins herself. "Stop it..." Sparkplug teases, "Oh, by all means. Tell me about the symbolism of the metaphors." He reaches over to tickle her. Susan Witwicky flinches and laughs "Goddamnit, stop it, I"m serious!" Sparkplug growls, "Oh, me, too. Deadly serious. You know me!" He pulls Susan into his lap, biting her playfully and tickling her mercilessly. Susan Witwicky laughs and drapes her arms around Sparkplug. Arrogant rake... Sparkplug LAUGHS victoriously, carrying his wife upstairs, troubles forgotten for a few hours, at least. The Next Day... As good as a dad Sparkplug can be - starting a new job, he's out of options in terms of taking the day off, forcing Susan to drive Buster to school this morning. She looks at Buster and says "So...today... you're not going to class. You're seeing Mrs. Hadley. Now, she's just going to ask you questions." Buster stairs up at his mom from his seat, where he sits quietly, hands folded neatly across his lap. His clothes are clean and his hair neatly parted and slicked down. Susan Witwicky gets out of the car and offers a hand for Buster to hold onto. She'd MUCH rather be there with him, but Mrs. Hadley said no parental reaction for the first duration. "Let's go..." Buster accepts his mother's hand obediently, and lets her lead him inside. Susan Witwicky sits Buster down on the hard wooden bench and adjusts his hair again. She looks at Buster and says "Now - I want you to tell Mrs. Hadley the truth - no matter what? Even if it may hurt mommy and daddy's feelings. The main thing is that we want YOU to get better...understand?" Buster nods silently and obediently, although it's hard to say what's actually penetrating his saucerlike eyes. Susan Witwicky breathes out her nose and then unexpectedly goes in and gives Buster a tight hug. She doesn't let go for awhile. "We're gonna fix this...OK?" Buster nods silently, accepting the hug passively The COUNSELOR door opens, revealing a bespecled woman well into her 50s. She looks down at Buster and grins, "You must be Buster!" "Come on in!" Susan Witwicky looks on, getting the sudden mama lion urge to go in there and protect her son, but the rules stated - Buster must go in alone. Buster walks in quietly, giving his mother a long, wide-eyed look, staring at her as long as she's in line of sight. Susan Witwicky looks on for as long as she can before the door closes. Leaving Mrs. Hadley with Buster. Mrs. Hadley points to the bowl of M&Ms. "Help yourself!" She then gestures to a chair. "It's great to finally meet you, Buster. Your teachers say you're an EXTREMELY bright boy!" Buster walks over to the bowl and grabs a handful. Sitting down, he carefully arranges the M&Ms by color as Mrs. Hadley speaks. Mrs. Hadley tilts her head, studying Buster. "I DO have to admit though... you're giving your teachers quite a scare this week! They miss hearing you in class." She looks on as Buster arranges the M&Ms and starts to scribble some notes. Buster seems to ignore the counselor as he carefully arranges the M&Ms, and then begins to eat them in color order. Mrs. Hadley smiles. "Buster...I'm speaking to you." Buster looks up at Mrs. Hadley, hand poised mid-M&M. It's still 1980, so child psychology isn't nearly as developed as it is now, hence the occasional corporal punishment that may be leveed upon kids like Buster. Mrs. Hadley folds her hands. "Now, whatever you say in here... will be kept a secret. Your mom, your dad... will not hear our conversation. So you can say anything, does that make sense?" Buster watches the woman carefully but silently. He nods, mouth open, half-chewed M&Ms visible. Mrs. Hadley leans slightly toward Buster. "Yes?" Buster raises his blonde eyebrows, but looks slightly confused. Mrs. Hadley frowns slightly. "Please either shake your head or nod if you understood what I just said. Do you understand... whatever you say in here - your mom and dad will NOT hear. Do you understand?!" Buster closes his mouth, chewing his melted M&Ms as he nods carefully, eyes never leaving Mrs. Hadley's face. Mrs. Hadley folds her hands. Even this is a weird case for her. Before Buster came in, she joked she wished more cases were like this. In most cases though, it's the kid will NOT shut up. She asks "Is there a problem at home, Buster?" Buster shakes his head slowly No. Susan Witwicky gives a cautious smile at a few teachers, the teachers smile back, but internally, she's playing dialogue in her head about what the teachers are THINKING about her and Buster's family. Mrs. Hadley scribbles some notes down. "What about school, any problem with another student?" Buster folds his hands again in his lap, carefully-organized M&Ms forgotten. He shakes his head No again. Mrs. Hadley's eyes widen, "A teacher then?" Buster shakes his head No again. He is super-unhelpful. =) Mrs. Hadley then blurts out, "Then why are you not talking?!" Buster jumps at the minor outburst, eyes widening further. Mrs. Hadley writes some more. Kid scares easily. She then smiles, trying to dial it back. "I'm sorry...again... why aren't you talking in class?" Buster thinks for a moment, and then shrugs. Mrs. Hadley rubs her eyes. She then thinks for a second, then gives a pad and pen, pencil, and crayon to Buster. "Would you rather write down why you're not talking in class?" She leans back in her chair, hoping Buster will at least express himself other than widen eyes and organized M&Ms. Buster shrugs his shoulders, turning back to the M&Ms. The inexperienced Mrs. Hadley frowns. "Buster... write...down...why you can't talk." She finally says in an exasperated tone, "Is it your brother?!" Buster looks up sharply at Mrs. Hadley's exasperated tone. He looks a bit fearful. Mrs. Hadley sighs, remembering Buster's fear. She then forces a patient smile. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to snap. PLEASE...write down why you won't talk." Buster takes a pencil and paper, and stares at it for a long time. Mrs. Hadley says hopefully "Your brother? Does it have to have something to do with him?" Buster shakes his head quickly No. Mrs. Hadley opens her hand and points to the pad. "OK then. PLEASE write down what's troubling you!" Her eyes widen as she goes to take the bowl of M&M's away. Buster takes the paper and pencil again, and considers again what to write. Mrs. Hadley looks on in interest. "That's a good boy..." Buster writes on the paper, "PEEPL TRYING TO MAKE ME TAWK." He hands the paper to Mrs. Hadley. Mrs. Hadley nods. She scribbles some more stuff down. She shrugs, "Well, I can't help you if don't tell me what's wrong." Buster takes the paper back. Mrs. Hadley then gently pushes the bowl of M&Ms toward Buster. Buster writes, "THER IS NUTHING RONG." Mrs. Hadley frowns. "Do you like this school?" Buster nods quickly. He smiles, looking around the office. Mrs. Hadley then states "Do you want to see your mother?" Buster hops up, and walks to a shelf. Looking over at Mrs. Hadley, he nods again quickly, smile growing. Mrs. Hadley's notes are scribbled 'fearful of others', 'stubborn - one of most stubborn ever worked with' 'possible OCD' 'seems genial' She sighs and gestures to the door. "You can go..." Buster grins, and runs over, grabbing the rest of his M&Ms... but leaving the tan and brown ones. He stuffs the rest in his mouth and runs out the door. Susan Witwicky is sitting, hands folded. Jesus, what are they talking about in there? Jeremiah? Buster runs into her room, and gives her a happy hug. Susan Witwicky 's eyes widen as she hears the door open. She quickly looks up at Mrs. Hadley. Mrs. Hadley gives a resigned nod. "He seems to be...fine. We'll talk about this later - are you free later tonight?" Susan nods eagerly, but then gives Buster an extra tight hug and kisses his forehead. She looks at Mrs. Hadley and breathes out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much." Buster hugs his mother and hangs onto her like he was a koala. Susan Witwicky walks out with Buster. In the parking lot, she gets him settled in the car. "We're going to grab some cheese pizza for lunch." She then looks at Buster with fierce, determined eyes, "Look... you don't have to say anything, but... I NEED to know if you're OK. Is there something...ANYTHING dad, Spike, and I aren't doing?" Susan Witwicky clicks Buster's safety belt and gives it one or two quick tugs. She gives Buster a sad smile. "I don't want to force you into doing something you don't want to do... I just... I miss hearing my special little guy every day." Buster looks up at his mom, wide-eyed but silent. He gives her a re-assuring smile. Susan Witwicky smiles. "Maybe we hit the park after lunch?" Buster nods quickly, grinning a chocolate-stained grin. Susan Witwicky says, "OK then... we'll just...hang out today. Just the two of us." Buster smiles happily at that idea, and seems at peace for a silent, fucked-up kid. Susan Witwicky smiles to herself and drives the family station wagon down to the the Pizza Shoppe. The day going not nearly as well as she wanted, but still, happy to see a smile on her son.